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Reflected

January 12, 2016

It was all reflected there: her red coat, her black pants, her slightly disheveled hair, the way her eyes shifted as if she were alert, always, to possible attacks. She had once been someone who stood up straight, but now her shoulders hunched, her body curled around its own soft places.

She did not like standing near mirrored walls, but the line snaked past this one, and today she had no choice. She tried not to look at the twin of herself, carrying the same slightly crumpled application, the same notebook filling up with rejection and missed opportunity.

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